The Nightmare Lord
by PenPatronus
Summary: The Doctor originally met the Dream Lord in his Tenth incarnation, but what happened was so painful that he had no choice but to forget. Hurt / Comfort, angst, drama. Featuring the Tenth Doctor, Rose, Martha, Donna, Jack, the Dream Lord, Clara and River.
1. Personal Purgatory

**Summary:** The Doctor originally met the Dream Lord in his Tenth incarnation, but what happened was so painful that he had no choice but to forget. Hurt / Comfort, angst, drama. Featuring the Tenth Doctor, Rose, Martha, Donna, Jack, the Dream Lord, Clara and River.

**The Nightmare Lord**

PenPatronus

Chapter One

**Personal Purgatory**

It was the Doctor's personal purgatory: a planet that was all one graveyard. One enormous earth-sized graveyard filled with the headstones of everyone he'd ever been responsible for – loved ones, enemies, innocent bystanders, entire species and cultures… He tiptoed among them in bare feet, wearing what was left of his tattered blue suit, holding his busted sonic screwdriver out of nothing but habit.

Lifetimes passed. He walked by familiar gravestones a thousand times: Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Jack Harkness, Donna Noble… He felt their spirits squirm beneath the black dirt. Ghosts of star systems hung in the black sky. A million voices shouted at him – ghosts cursing, accusing, blaming, condemning, damning him.

He didn't remember dying, but he must have. The last image he recalled was Donna's face smiling at him across the TARDIS' console. There wasn't even a nothingness to bridge the living world and the death he now found himself in. No sensation of waking up. No judge or jury. One second he was the Tenth Doctor, traveling through space in time in the TARDIS with Donna, the next he was unbearably alone in a black world of his own ghosts. Eventually he was too tired to walk. Then too tired to stand, then too tired to sit up. He collapsed, facedown, onto the black grass between Rose's grave and River's. He collapsed and waited to either regenerate or re-die.

"_**Doctor**_."

The word rose from the horizon like a sun. The voice was a pillow in a straitjacket of barbed wire. At first he couldn't define the sensation in his chest. He'd felt it before but now it was just déjà vu. It stirred memories, though. It stirred… comfort. Was it… hope?

"_Doctor, I'm here_."

Someone might have draped his shoulders with a blanket right out of the dryer. He went from pain to numbness and now whiplashed back, past the pain and straight back to security. Amazing what a few words from that voice could do…

The Doctor lifted his bruise of a face and squinted through the dark tombstones. Blonde hair caught his eye. Smiling red lips and blushing cheeks appeared. The woman stood ten feet away.

That woman was Rose.

"Ro—" he gasped. "Rose?"

She wore jeans, sneakers, a tight blue t-shirt and she had never looked so beautiful. Her smile brought the Doctor back to life, and he started to crawl.

Rose held her hands out to him. "I came to find you," she said. "My Doctor. My love."

Dirt stuck to his sweaty forearms as he crawled. "I need you," he whispered. "Rose. Rose, save me."

"I will." She knelt on one knee and reached. "I'll save you Doctor, I promise."

900 years and he'd never seen a miracle and now – now when he needed one most, there she was. Rose – the miracle of miracles.

His miracle.

"_No! Doctor, no_!"

Another voice. A new voice. Rose's face fell, darkened. The Doctor, lying flatter than a worm on the ground, managed to look back over his shoulder at the figure. The dead stars behind her cast a long shadow that hid everything except for her silhouette.

"She's not Rose, Doctor," the woman said. "Trust me, please. That's not Rose. That's the Dream Lord!"

**To Be Continued**


	2. Martha's Kitchen

**The Nightmare Lord**

PenPatronus

Chapter Two

**Martha's Kitchen**

It was Martha Jones' first night off in months. Not only was she off but she was alone. Alone and loving it. Her mum was visiting family out in Nottingham, Tom was on a camping trip with his mates and her sister, for once, took "no" for an answer when she asked Martha to go dancing. With a pizza in one hand and the dusty TV remote in the other, Martha Jones flopped onto her couch with a sigh and a smile that showed every tooth. And then, right then, she heard the familiar whooshing sound.

"Seriously?" she asked the previously empty room. She saw her reflection in the dusty television screen and watched, head shaking, as a tall blue police box materialized in the kitchen behind her. "You literally have all the time in the world – in the universe – but you can't find the time to give me a ring before you show up?" Martha rolled to the edge of the couch and put her boots back on. She retrieved a maroon jacket to match the collar of her black t-shirt. "I have a life, you know. Sometimes I need to relax for awhile so that I can live that life properly!" Martha walked around to the front doors and stared at them, her arms folded tightly against her chest. "And now you turn up." She kicked the TARDIS with her toe. "Inconvenient, you know? Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly inconvenient?"

The TARDIS went quiet and stayed quiet. Martha waited patiently, then impatiently. She kicked it again. "Doctor?" She pulled on the handle, surprised when the door opened. "Doctor...?" Martha stepped inside.

The white Converse smacked her right on the nose. A brown boot followed, but Martha ducked just in time. "Oi! What the hell?"

"Oh!" A head of ginger hair popped up from behind the center console. "Martha?"

"Donna!" Martha wiped her nose with the back of her hand and found blood leaking out of one nostril. "What's going on?"

"I'm so sorry." Donna limped over and retrieved her left boot. "I didn't know where we were, I didn't know who was coming in, I just grabbed the first weapons I could find."

"Shoes?"

Donna shrugged.

"Where is – Wait." Martha looked down, saw the white shoe and realized, with a start, that they were alone. "Donna, did _you_ fly the TARDIS?"

"No. No, no. It came here on its own. There's something wrong." Donna's hands flapped desperately like a baby bird's wings.

"With the TARDIS?" Martha looked around. "It looks all right. Nothing's on fire, at least."

"We were talking, just talking, you know?" Donna's face turned red. "I was teasing him because, well, that's what I do."

Martha frowned. "Donna, where's the Doctor?"

She seemed not to hear. "It just happened so suddenly. I was so freaked out. I told the TARDIS that he needed help and I guess it decided to take him to you."

"_Donna_!" Martha grasped the other woman by the shoulders and forced her to meet her eyes. Donna's were red and wet. "What happened to the Doctor?"

"I…" Donna took a deep breath. "I don't know. He just collapsed all of a sudden and…" Donna's voice broke. "I can't wake him up. Oh God, Martha, he won't wake up!"

**To Be Continued**


	3. A Haunted Mind

**The Nightmare Lord**

PenPatronus

Chapter Three

**A Haunted Mind**

The Doctor squinted at the faceless woman standing in the shadows between Martha's gravestone and Jack's. "Donna…?" he whispered. "Is that – is that you?"

"Donna Noble isn't here, Doctor." The woman tiptoed towards him on black heels, wearing a red dress with gold trim and a meek, tired smile. "You're dreaming. This is a nightmare conjured by your own mind. That being wearing Rose's face, you'll call him the Dream Lord in the future. And he's you."

The Doctor looked back at Rose but she had disappeared. "Rose? _Rose_!" Desperately he craned his neck to see around every headstone, through every breath of fog. "Not again. Oh, not again."

Rose was gone.

The strange girl tucked her short brown hair behind her ears and lowered herself to one knee an arm's length from his feet. "He's the Hyde to your Jekyll, Doctor, and he's been waiting in your subconscious a very long while. Waiting for you to be vulnerable."

"Vulnerable?" the Doctor spat. "How am I vulnerable?"

The woman scooted closer. Slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. "This is your mind, Doctor. This graveyard. Your mind is a graveyard, full of death. And recently, _she_ died."

The Doctor followed the girl's line of sight towards a tombstone on the other side of Rose's. No date of birth or death had been chiseled into it, and there was just one name:

_Jenny_

His daughter's name disappeared behind a flash flood of tears. "The proverbial last straw?" he whispered. He felt the pain of her death anew and, with it, the pain of every death that had come before. A strangled sob erupted from deep within his chest, a sob that echoed off of every gravestone. The graveyard's shadows blushed darker. Thunder rumbled from an empty, cloudless sky. The ground began to shake like a rattling breath, at first, and then a full on seizure.

"Doctor, look at me," the girl said. "Listen to me! Don't think about her – don't think about death – don't think about your regrets! Regret dragged you into this dreamland. Regret will kill you here."

The Doctor's chocolate eyes darkened. "I am asleep, having a nightmare where I'm haunting myself? Because of Jenny. Because I'm so cut up about her that I just—" His throat worked. His lips whitened. "I just snapped?"

The seizure turned into an earthquake.

The girl knelt beside him. "Even Time Lords can only take so much pain." One pale hand reached out to touch his shoulder but the Doctor flinched.

"Who are you?" he growled. "How do I know that you're real? How do I know _you're_ not a figment of my imagination, and Rose is the real one?"

"We have mutual friends, so I brought a message from one to prove that I know you."

A TARDIS-sized tombstone so old that the name had faded crashed to the ground behind her. The rumbles tried to drown their voices.

"What mutual friend?"

"A friend who says 'Hello, sweetie.'"

The storm-quake stopped at the name. A face popped into his memory. "You know Riv—but, she's dead. Well, most of her is dead."

"Enough of her is alive. And enough of me is able to follow you into your dreams. And enough of you is strong enough to get out. So, on your feet, Doctor." The girl jumped up to hers and held her hand out for the Doctor to take. "My name's Clara Oswald and I'm here to save you."

He asked himself why he immediately took her hand and obediently stood. Fear, he decided. Blind obedience was a symptom of fear. And, not for the first time, he was literally afraid of himself. His graveyard, his storm of a brain ruled by the face of his love was trying to destroy him. This girl wasn't afraid, though. This Clara had the look of someone who had chosen courage over fear a thousand times. He stared at her: half a foot shorter than him, cherry lips, brown hair the same shade as his, eyes that were more twinkle than not. Curious. Brave and curious – the best kind of woman.

"Well, Clara Oswald," he said with his normal clipped, crisp voice, "how do we get out of my head?" A short, loud snort burst from his nostrils. "Not that I don't deserve such torment considering everything I've done—"

It was then, right then, that the graves opened up and swallowed them both.

**To Be Continued**


	4. Calling for Back-Up

**The Nightmare Lord**

PenPatronus

Chapter Four

**Calling for Back-Up**

Martha sprinted towards the far side of the console and found the Doctor lying on his back with Donna's brown jacket rolled up beneath his head. His lips and skin were white and shining with sweat. "Doctor?" She dropped to her knees and pressed her left ear against his chest. "Both hearts are working," she said out loud. "Breathing is normal but he's burning up. Donna, help me get his coat off."

Donna obeyed and the two women wiggled the Doctor out of his trench coat and suit jacket. "Did he say anything?" Martha asked as she undid his tie. "Was he feeling unwell?"

"No, I… I don't think so." Donna wiped her flowing eyes angrily. "Calm down," she ordered herself. "Nothing bad happened at the last planet we visited. No bloody plagues or gun-slinging robots. I swear he was fine."

Martha slapped his cheeks and shook his shoulders. She pried open his eyelids and examined his pupils. "He seems to just be asleep," she muttered to herself. "But why won't he wake up?" To Donna, she said, "There's a thermometer on the top shelf in the loo. Get it, will you?" Martha asked. "My mobile, too, from the kitchen table. I need a second opinion."

"Of course."

When Donna turned her back, Martha's expression cracked. Her bottom lip trembled and her eyelids crinkled. "Oh, God," she whispered. She tossed the Doctor's navy tie aside and lowered her forehead until it rested against his left heart. "I don't know what to do." Her fingers grasped his shirt collar and twisted it. "I can't lose you, Doctor. _We_ can't."

Donna reappeared. "Here. No, you take that, I'll take this." She handed off the phone and inserted the thermometer between the Doctor's lips herself.

Martha pushed down on the number 7 until "CALLING JH" flashed across the screen. Ten seconds later a man's voice said, "Martha Jones, I've been expect—"

"Jack, I need you!" Martha shouted into the phone.

Captain Jack Harkness chuckled. "That's what all the ladies say."

She was _not_ in the mood. "The Doctor's here. He's unconscious – he's hurt or ill – I don't know but I can't wake him up and I need help, Jack!"

A beat passed. When Jack spoke again his voice lacked a bit of confidence, but it remained steady. "Where are you?"

"My apartment."

"Should I bring a med team from Torchwood?"

"No not – not yet. I have plenty of supplies here and I don't want them poking at him. I just need – I don't know…" Martha pressed her palm against her face and struggled to take a deep breath. Donna patted her gently on the back.

"Martha, stay calm," Jack ordered. "I'm on my way, ok? I'm on my way."

"Hurry. Jack, please hurry."

Martha pocketed her phone while Donna examined the now beeping thermometer. "One-hundred and twenty degrees Fahrenheit," she reported. "Is that good or bad? Bad for a human, _really_ bad for a human, right? But what about him, Martha?" Donna spoke her name again, twice, louder each time, but the younger woman seemed deaf.

Martha stroked the Doctor's unruly brown hair. "I've got you," she whispered, "I'll fix you. I promise."

**To Be Continued**


	5. The Grave Cage

**Author's Notes: **This is turning out a bit darker than I intended. Fair warning! Hope you're enjoying this and I hope you review!

**The Nightmare Lord**

PenPatronus

Chapter Five

**The Grave Cage**

The Tenth Doctor fell for miles. That's what it felt like, anyhow. As equally shocking to the sudden fall was the realization that he'd only dropped about six feet. The Doctor stood, barefoot, on a floor covered in thick, white ice. "_Exactly_ six feet," he muttered. On his tiptoes he could almost see over the ledge. "Six feet deep. Clara, who's grave are we in? Clara?" He spun in place, eyes flitting over the dirt walls.

"She wasn't invited," said a new voice. The Doctor pivoted towards a shadowy corner of the wide grave. Rose emerged from it, smiled at him, and then transformed into a short, balding man wearing the Doctor's suit. "I sent Clara away."

The Doctor's hands clenched into fists, his jaw just as tight. "The Dream Lord, is it? Is that what you call yourself?"

"What _you_ call yourself," the man chuckled. "I don't give you dreams, though. I'm not here for your entertainment. I'm here to remind you of your horrors." He stepped closer and tapped one finger against his chin. "I'm the Nightmare Lord."

"If this is nothing but a nightmare," Ten said low and deep in his voice, "I only have to will myself to wake up."

"Won't work."

"And why is that?"

The Nightmare Lord's lips curled. "Because you've already tried and, still, here you are."

"If this is nothing but a nightmare," the Tenth Doctor repeated, "that means you can't really hurt me."

"Oh, I don't want to hurt you." The Nightmare Lord went doe-eyed before his expression snapped back into his usual smirk. "Oh no, no. I want to kill you. Better than that – I want you to want to die. Even better than that," he said with a snort and a giggle, "I want you to kill yourself."

Ten and the Nightmare Lord circled each other. Their rubber shoes squeaked on the ice. "Now that I know it's a dream, I know that nothing you show me is real," the Doctor said quick and crisp. Confidence straightened his back. "And if it's not real, it won't cause me pain, and it certainly won't make me want to kill myself."

The Nightmare Lord's laugh echoed off the grave's walls. "Are you forgetting who you're talking to? I'm the _you_ who wants to destroy you – you're already self-destructive, already incapable of living with yourself! With the blood on your hands, with your failures. And your mind created me to push you over the edge." He looked up at the sky above. "You're in a grave already, and I've barely begun."

A bead of sweat leaked in between Ten's clenched fingers. A bead of dread leaked into his stomach. "Where's Clara?" he whispered. "Why is there ice in this grave?"

He blinked. In the span of that blink the Nightmare Lord morphed into a slim, blonde woman with a wide smile. She wore a maroon sweater and form-fitting brown slacks. "Because, dad," said the image of Jenny, "this is what you imagined us doing on my first birthday: ice skating." She knelt on the ice and started lacing up a pair of skates.

**To Be Continued**


	6. Companions Unite

**The Nightmare Lord**

PenPatronus

Chapter Six

**Companions Unite**

Jack didn't mean to yank Martha's doorknob off when he entered her apartment but, in all honesty, he didn't try not to, either. "Martha where's the—" he began and would've finished if he didn't smack face-first into the side of the TARDIS. "Never mind," he said, sounding like his nose was plugged, "found it."

A distant voice: "Jack?"

Jack sprinted around the machine to its open double doors. "I'm here, I'm here."

Martha sat on the floor in front of a frowning woman with red hair. "This is Donna," Martha explained. "She's his current companion. Donna, meet Captain Jack Harkness."

"Yes, please," Donna said, her voice full of air. Her eyes widened, "I mean – I mean I didn't mean to say that out loud—"

"Pleasure, Donna," Jack said. "I do like gingers."

"For God's sake, Jack," Martha snapped, "the Doctor could be dying and even then you have to flirt?"

"I don't _have_ to. Now, tell me what happened."

While Donna explained, Martha cradled the Doctor's head in her lap, her hand in his long, unruly hair. When Jack knew everything she did, she couldn't keep the words in her mouth: "Have you ever seen him like this? Can you help him?"

Jack's jaw line flexed. In lieu of answering her questions he said, "Let's get him somewhere comfortable." The captain knelt beside the Doctor, slid his palms under the Time Lord's back and knees, then stood with the Doctor held securely against his chest. "God, you've got a fever. I've got you, Doc," he said with more tenderness than he intended to reveal. He followed Martha to her room and managed, miraculously, not to crack a joke about two women and two men in the Jones bedroom.

"So, you know the Doctor, too?" Donna asked while Jack arranged the unconscious Time Lord on the bed.

"Uh, yeah, for a good hundred years or so now." Jack carefully propped him up with pillows.

Donna's mouth opened but promptly closed. "Suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that sort of thing by now."

"I've had the pleasure of Martha's company on and off, too." Jack flashed his widest grin at the woman but extinguished it promptly when he saw her face.

Twin trails of tears lined Martha's face. She tried to keep her lower lip from trembling, and failed. Jack gathered her into a tight hug and held her close. "He'll be ok," he whispered. "He's the Doctor. He'll be ok."

"It's just that I – I've seen him dead before and he looked exactly like that – so pale, lips white, those veins in his temples sticking out…" Martha buried her face against Jack's chest. "I can't bear this, Jack, I can't…"

"Neither can I." Jack kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. "Neither can I…"

Donna turned away to hide her own tears. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the Doctor's warm hand into both of hers. "Make you a deal," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear her, if he'd actually been conscious, "you get all better and I promise not to use the phrase 'I told you so' for a whole week… Or ten years, whichever comes first." She kissed the top of his hand.

A full minute passed with only Martha's soft crying to break the silence. And then, so quiet that it could have been nothing but a yawn, the Doctor whispered, "J-Jenny?"

**To Be Continued**


	7. The Impossible Girl

**The Nightmare Lord**

PenPatronus

Chapter Seven

**The Impossible Girl**

"Do you know what the best part about all of this is?" the Nightmare Lord asked the Tenth Doctor with Jenny's mouth. "I can influence your mind in countless ways including – in-clu-ding…" he stretched it into three syllables, basking in it, "compartmentalizing it."

Ten stepped backwards. The rear of his blue suit jacket smashed against the wall of the grave. "What? What do you mean?" he asked. Both the Nightmare Lord and the Timelord knew the answer.

"Well…" Jenny finished putting on her ice skates and stood. "That means that I could, for instance, bury the last hour of your memory. Make you forget." She skated towards him – stalked towards him, like a lion approaching its prey. "Make you forget about Clara, make you forget this is a dream, make you forget that I'm not really Jenny."

"No…" Ten whispered. His exhales froze in midair and the crystals landed on the ice.

"Like you said," sneered the Nightmare Lord, "you can't truly be hurt by something that isn't real. Suppose I'll have to make it real."

The drama, the flourish wasn't necessary, but he tossed his hand in the air and snapped his fingers anyway.

The Doctor winced, groaned, and then massaged his forehead. He blinked once, twice, and then finally, after the third time, his eyes focused on the woman in front of him. Few things in all of time and space could bring The Doctor to his knees.

His resurrected daughter was one of them.

The ice cracked when his knees hit it. His lips formed her name but only a hiccup came out. Her smile showed every tooth. "Hi, Dad."

The Tenth Doctor caught his breath. It took another minute to calm it, yet another to say, "You died. You died in front of me. You died in my arms. I felt it happen!"

She threw her arms around him. "Dad, Daddy, it was a dream, just a dream. You saved me, don't you remember?"

"I…" he gasped into her blonde hair, "I saw you die." He pulled back and cupped her slim face between his long fingers. "J-Jenny?"

Her eyes twinkled. "It's my birthday, Dad. Come skate with me." She got back to her feet and held both hands out to help him up. The Doctor reached for her.

Clara Oswald dropped into the grave and landed between the Doctor and the Nightmare Lord. She was out of breath, disheveled from head to toe, and trembling with anger. "Get away from him," she snarled.

The Nightmare Lord / Jenny recoiled. "How did you get back? That's – _that's impossible_."

Clara winked. "That's me." She turned to the Doctor and went cross-eyed when his sonic screwdriver pointed an inch away from her nose. "Doctor?"

"Get away from my daughter," he ordered with a tone of voice that left zero room for disobedience. "I don't know who the hell you are, but—"

Clara punched him. She punched the Doctor right in the nose. And then she pivoted on her heel, wound up again and socked Jenny across the jaw. Jenny yelped and landed on her backside. The façade disappeared, leaving a red-faced little man cursing as he held his sleeve against his busted lip. Clara marched right up to his feet. She glared down at him, eyes ablaze. "And stay away," she hissed. He disappeared with a final glare.

Clara turned back to the Doctor and found him slumped against the grave wall with his face in his hands. "Clara…?" he confirmed. A tear smaller than a pinprick hovered on the edge of his eyelashes. "God, I forgot – he made me forget – that felt so, so real—"

"Climb," she told him. "We need to get out of this grave, now!" Clara pulled the Doctor to his feet and shoved him face-first against the wall. "Reach up – come on – climb!"

The Doctor didn't even have the chance to get a foothold in the dirt. Again the ground disappeared. Again, they fell.

**To Be Continued**


	8. The Cavalry

**The Nightmare Lord**

PenPatronus

Chapter Eight

**The Cavalry**

A sudden sensation of static electricity flowed over Donna, Jack and Martha half a moment before two strange women appeared in the bedroom. It was out of nowhere that they appeared from – the taller, muscular woman with curly hair and the slimmer, brown-haired, unconscious girl over her shoulder. Jack unsheathed his sidearm, pointed it, and just started to yell the first threat that popped into his head when he suddenly froze, staring at the first woman's wrist. "Hey…" he said, "that's a vortex manipulator… That's _my_ vortex manipulator!"

"River?" Donna sprung up from the Doctor's bedside. "Oh my god, you're—"

"Wait, wait!" River held up her forefinger to shush Donna. "Spoiler-free zone, lady. I haven't met you yet, far as I know, and if you know anything about my future, it's best not to tell me, understood?" Donna nodded dumbly. "This should go smoother than I thought if you lot already know me."

"I don't know you!" Jack bellowed. "And I'd never give my vortex manipulator to anyone! You must have taken it from my cold dead—"

"Sorry, handsome, but I'm on a schedule here." River Song pushed past Jack and lay the unconscious girl on the bed beside the Doctor. "Haven't got a stethoscope on you, do you, Martha dear? Oh, wait…." River spotted the Doctor's brown coat hanging over a corner chair. Her hand disappeared into one of the inside pockets, as did the rest of her arm up to her shoulder, then emerged with the Doctor's stethoscope. Quickly she listened to first the Doctor's heartbeats, then the girl's.

"Donna, who the hell is she?" Martha demanded.

"She's – she's uh…" Donna stammered.

"Spoilers," River reminded her.

Donna wrung her hands. "She's a friend. A good friend of the Doctor's. I trust her. We can trust her."

"And who's Sleeping Beauty?" Jack asked.

"Clara. Clara Oswald." River put the stethoscope back into the Doctor's jacket and looked around for another pillow to put under his head. "She's currently inside the Doctor's head, trying to snap him out of one hell of a nightmare. You've met her before – all three of you – you just don't remember."

Jack's eyebrow ascended. "Oh, I'm sure I'd remember that porcelain face."

"Who is she?" Martha asked.

"That doesn't matter." River gently arranged the Doctor's limbs into a position she knew he'd find more comfortable. "What matters is that she can help him. I was hoping to get her to the Doctor before he collapsed, but there was a setback… or two. We were still on another planet when his dreams started and I'm not sure if the connection is working. She woke up for a second." River took an object wrapped in old newspaper out of her dress pocket. It was the shape and size of a lipstick applicator. "Soporific candle. The fumes knock you out and let you cross space and time via dreams. Handy thing, truly. Lifted it from a lizard."

"Lizard?" Donna squeaked.

Martha stood between Jack and River. "So this Clara girl is trying to wake him up from a dream. Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Doubt it." River shrugged and pulled a chair up to Clara's side. "We just have to wait, I suppose. I don't know how long it will take or if she'll even be successful but—"

"River," Jack suddenly shouted, "look!"

Four pairs of eyes looked down at the two sleeping bodies. A speck of red in the corner of the Doctor's lips elongated into a stream that dripped onto Martha's pillow. Simultaneously Clara's nose also started to bleed.

"Is that supposed to happen?" Donna asked River.

River turned white. "No," she said, "definitely not."

**To Be Continued**


End file.
